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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27905842">For Oscar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineWonders/pseuds/KatherineWonders'>KatherineWonders</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Historical RPF, The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Oscar Wilde - Freeform, References to Oscar Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:20:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27905842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineWonders/pseuds/KatherineWonders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Oscar Wilde’s birthday last autumn. If you get a distinctive feeling from this that I love this bohemian dandy way more than it would be considered normal, you’re right. <br/>~For every little thing she loved, she loved with her entire human being.~</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Oscar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this last year for Oscar Wilde’s birthday and published it on my blog and my instagram. But not that many people follow me on instagram, let alone read my posts. And my blog does not have a huge following either. But it took me quite a long time to finish this and I must say, I’m quite proud of it, so though someone here maybe could appreciate it. Please, let me know your thoughts, it would mean the world to me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If I ever find myself in possession of a device that would allow me to travel in time, my first goal would be, perhaps, quite different to those of others. I’m way too aware of how time travelling works and therefore I know that fix points in history shall not be changed.</p><p>No, my dear readers, yours truly would lead her first expedition to Paris in November 1900. I hear you asking: But why would you do such a thing, Katherine? You never even managed to learn to speak French, why would you go France then? 1900? Why, for crying out loud?<br/>And all your questions would be completely valid, and Katherine will do her best to provide answers to all of them.</p><p>You may or may not know that on 30 November 1900 one of the greatest authors of all time left our world, never to return. On that day, 119 years ago died of unsure causes Oscar Wilde, my dearest and most favourite writer, at the early age of 46. He died in poverty, in exile, heartbroken, separated from his children, convinced that his works are to be forgotten, never ever read by anyone again. His health broken by imprisonment and hard labour that he was sentenced to. Just for the record, in those times it was said that a working man may had a chance of surviving this punishment, for a member of “gentleman class” this was as good as death sentence. And yet, Oscar Wilde survived. And immediately fled to France. There, three years after, he died.</p><p>What were his crimes, I hear you asking? What had this man done to receive such a horrible punishment? One would expect murder, but that is not the case, I fear. For Oscar Wilde was sentenced for committing the crime of sodomy. He was punished for preferring the company of men to that of women. For being homosexual. Penalised in the name of ‘love that dare not speak its name.’</p><p>And here comes another question: Why do you want to pay a visit to a dying man, my dear? Simply because I cannot bear the thought of him dying in shame, knowing that his sons don’t even have his surname anymore, believing that the future will not award his books as masterpieces. I wish for him to know just how loved and admired he is in our time. That everybody knows his name. That his plays are yet again performed by the best theatrical scenes in the world. That his books are regarded as masterpieces. That the story of his life carries on living, is taught in schools, his fairy tales are once more read to children.</p><p>I would tell him that just sixty-seven years after his death, homosexuality was decriminalised in the United Kingdom. That in 2013 legislation to allow same-sex marriage in England and Wales was passed by the Parliament. That we’re getting to the point, where it no longer matters for the gender of your significant other. I would let him see the future, because my heart breaks every time I think of what happened to him. And worst thing is – he was not alone, there were thousands of others.</p><p>How could we ever allow such thing to happen? How could have love been ever looked upon as a crime? Why should love ever dare not speak its name? It disturbs me greatly, that it’s not that long since homosexuality was a crime one could be hung for. I feel privileged to live in 21st century, in a part of the world where human rights are taken seriously. On the other hand, there are still places where homosexuality is illegal, and for example in Czech Republic, my own country, same sex marriages are not permitted. As they are not in many other countries.</p><p>There still a long way ahead of us, but don’t fear, dear Oscar, we’re getting there.</p><p>And in the future, if I had to, I wouldn’t hesitate to help to make that happen, for Love is to be protected at all cost. Because, without Love, what are we?</p><p>On this day, 165 years ago, Oscar Wilde was born in Dublin, Ireland. So happy birthday, Mr Wilde. I hope You’re doing well wherever You are. Writing, playing with your children, wearing the most extravagant clothes and loving whoever You want to.</p><p>With a sentiment that cannot quite be described as love for it’s even stronger,<br/>Katherine</p>
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